Day of Lifted Weight
by Witty Eagle Proud Ravenclaw
Summary: After World War II, Edith and Marigold take a trip they've always meant to do. Sequel to 'Day of Fate'.


**Day of Lifted Weight**

 **Author Note: Julian Fellowes' brainchild, not mine - I wish!**

As the snow fell over her home, Lady Hexham looked out of the drawing room window. Her slightly greying hair was a sign of how much she and others had gone through the last six years. Another world war, and Downton had turned into a convalescence home again. But some happiness had broken through as well.

"Miss Marigold to see you, milady." the butler Augustus Hunter said as he made the presence of a guest known. Edith stirred from her window-gazing.

"Thank you, Hunter." she smiled slightly, seeing a familiar face walk in. "Marigold darling!" Edith beamed as her brunette blue-eyed daughter came into view.

"I'm glad you're happy, because I've got some good news." Marigold smiled. Edith caught a glint of something shining off Marigold's finger. She let out a girly scream.

"Robert asked you to marry him?! Oh that's lovely!" she grinned with all her teeth.

"He's telling John and Anna right now, but apart from that, no-one else knows." Marigold smiled, her face alight with happiness. Tears welled up in Edith's eyes.

"Oh, the secret Mrs. Bates! I can't wait - as the bride's mother it's my job to plan the wedding meticulously!" she said. After laughing, Marigold paused, thinking about a previous chat she'd had with her mother years before. But how to bring it up?

"Mama... now that the war's over... do you think we might go to Munich before the wedding? The Americans have some control of it now, so we'd be safe..." she trailed, a somber note entering her voice upon the mention of the city. Edith looked Marigold straight in the eyes, remembering a talk between her and her daughter years before.

"Oh my darling..." Edith sighed in a mixture of happiness and sadness as she pulled Marigold close to her. "Honey of course we can go to Munich to find your papa."

"Just us though. No husbands or fiancés." Marigold said. Edith nodded heartily.

"Yes, that would be a tad awkward. It should be a mother-daughter trip." the blonde smiled. Two weeks later in early November, the two women were on a plane to Munich.

"How odd is it that the first opportunity we got to get away was on November 8th?" Marigold pondered as they were high in the West European skies. Edith nodded.

"Quite odd, for certain." she agreed. The next day they were in the Munich graveyard holding flowers. It was Marigold that happened to see the cemetery attendant first.

"Sprichst du Englisch?" she asked him. The attendant shook his head. After thinking, she spoke again. "Wo ist das grab von Michael Gregson?" she asked in her pigeon German, hoping it sounded right and he knew the answer to her question.

"Folge mir." he said, making a walking gesture with his hands. Mother and daughter followed him, Marigold thanking her lucky stars her broken foreign tongue was good enough. After a few minutes they had come to a secluded part of the graveyard.

"Hier ist das grab." the attendant said, and with a nod, walked away. Edith inhaled. A very simple grave-marker was there, and all it said was his name. Luckily 'Michael Gregson' wasn't changed in translation. They had both expected something like this, but it was still a shock to see him commemorated so disgustingly plainly. Marigold's lip wobbled. Edith walked away - she was tactful enough to give her daughter time.

"Oh, Papa..." Marigold sniffed, bending over the grave. Although Edith couldn't see her face, by the hunched figure, she could tell her daughter was crying slightly. After a minute, Edith wordlessly handed the flowers over. With a simple but fierce nod of acknowledgment, the younger woman took them and placed them on the grave. Marigold turned back to her mother, her eyes burning with a similar fire to when Michael had beaten Sampson the card shark many years before. The fire of a good deed having been done. Edith went to envelope her daughter in a hug, looking at the grave as she did it. A different life would've happened had Michael not gone...

There and then she made a decision. She'd hand over the old flat and the Sketch over to Marigold. Who better to have them? Plus, Robert Bates wouldn't want to live with his in-laws. Like his parents, he'd want to start a life of his own quickly.

"Darling, I've got something to tell you. I've decided on your wedding present." she said. Marigold looked at her mother somewhat skeptically, a question on her face.

"Surely you should wait to tell me what it is?" she pondered. Edith smiled sadly.

"It's my flat in Notting Hill. Well, your papa's flat. I've been landlady to a few tenants over the years once we moved to Brancaster, but it's been empty for a while. You and Robert can move in as soon as you want if you want it early. A place of your own and a connection to your father - two birds with one stone." she explained. The only response was a wet shoulder and a mumbled 'thank you'. "So you want it early?"

"I'll have to talk to Robert first, of course." Marigold smiled, a weird feeling emerging in her chest. "But definitely! I'd be honoured to have Papa's flat be mine." she breathed. "I've already got an idea of where to put his miniature." she continued.

"Family portraits on the walls. Very Downton." Edith half-laughed. Marigold rolled her eyes at her mother fondly. She gently rubbed the grave-marker with her fingers.

"It's good to finally find you Papa." she said softly. "I wish I could've known you. I can't believe it's twenty-three years since you were taken." she breathed, shedding a tear. "I may be a Pelham in name, but I'm a Gregson in looks and spirit. Thank you for all the sacrifices you made for Mama." she continued, tears flowing freely now. "She's right here with me, and loved you very much. Wherever you are, I hope you can hear me. If it was up to me, your grave would be better than this." she sighed, her anger at the situation coming out as her nostrils flared. She wiped her eyes.

"I'm sure he heard you, dear." Edith said, equally happy and sad. "Bye Michael." she sighed, as she also rubbed her fingers on the stone marker. As they walked away, both women felt a weight lifted from their shoulders. Marigold was married the next June, with Sybbie appropriately being the maid of honour - who else when Marigold was a lady's daughter marrying a servants' son? But with two world conflicts, things had changed, even within the sphere that aristocrats kept themselves in. And eight months after the wedding, fraternal twins Michael and Edie Bates entered the world.

 **AN: A happier ending, despite more sadness. And finishing and uploading this on November 9th was a bit of a coincidence.**


End file.
